Silent StonesSet upon an ancient burial groundWhere the stones are silent And the trees speak no more Lies the grave Of my vague imagination. Once bounded by a sky That knew no limits The limits are apparent now Framed by the blackness of space And the vacuum from without. The sky is now marred by skyscrapers And the sound of airplanes, too But the concrete below bears witness That the grass can grow in cracks And that stones can still whisper, too. |
Wheel of the YearDisconcerted leaves fallAnd cherry blossoms die Grapes wither on the vines And dry out in the sun. Part of me dies with them While part of me lives on Inside the bulbs that stir In Gaeia's growing womb. The bulbs sprout and grow tall Under the clear spring sky Where the Sun brightly shines And with the Earth is one. The Sun is a bright gem The darkness almost gone Yet the nights grow longer |